


after weddings

by plat_lyon



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Car Sex, F/F, Just smut, Maggie is very into Alex, Smut, which is for the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 06:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plat_lyon/pseuds/plat_lyon
Summary: Alex was wearing red lipstick and plenty of eyeliner and her hair was just the way Maggie liked it best, and Maggie was a fucking goner for her.Sanvers enjoying themselves so much on the dance floor of a childhood friend's wedding that they have to work it off in the car on the way home.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer
Comments: 11
Kudos: 144





	after weddings

The music was loud, thumping. The wedding dance party was going on a second half hour of esoteric 90’s hip hop, and Maggie wasn’t complaining, but it wasn’t quite the vibe she’d expected. They were in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by strangers, and it felt a lot like crashing someone else’s high school reunion.

The wedding had been beautiful. The bride, a childhood friend of Alex’s, had impeccable taste, and the groom cried the second he laid eyes on her. For straight people, Maggie thought, they seemed pretty into each other. The dinner was slightly better than standard wedding fare, and the toasts were both funny and blissfully short.

And then about an hour ago the relatives surrendered the dance floor to the rowdy crowd of thirty-somethings who were all banging nearby, reliving their teens and early twenties by slamdancing to rappers Maggie couldn’t quite name anymore.

She and Alex went out dancing sometimes – not too often, because of jobs and liking to have clear routes to exits – but this was different. The music was different, and it was quite well lit, and everyone around them was reliving their college days, and there were a variety of baby boomers chatting and eating cake over on the side.

And, of course, Alex didn’t usually wear a dress this gorgeous when they went out dancing.

She usually wore skin-tight pants – black – and a slinky top that Maggie could slip her hands under. She told Alex, back the first time they’d gone, that feeling Alex’s back muscles flexing underneath her shirt had really done it for her. After that, Alex was always careful to wear a draping shirt without a bra, leaving Maggie miles of skin to explore before taking her home and exploring the rest.

But tonight, of course, Alex wasn’t in her backless tops and painted-on fuck-me pants at this formal wedding. She was wearing a truly gorgeous coffee colored dress – almost a gown, actually. It was lace and intricate, falling to her knees and hugging her tightly the whole way. High in the back, dipping low in the front. Tasteful but fucking hot.

Maggie had drooled, earlier today, zipping her into it and kissing the back of her neck, whispering just a few choice dirty things into Alex’s ear that had made Alex reach back and smack her softly.

But here, on the dance floor, Alex in the dress was testing the very limits of Maggie’s patience.

Maggie was dressed sharply herself: white button down, blue suit pants and matching vest. Her hair was mostly back in a bun with a few wisps strategically freed. Her sleeves were rolled up (_“lesbian,” _Alex had deadpanned, eyes rolling, as Maggie had fought with the crisply ironed shirt).

They didn’t know anyone else here. None of the other childhood friends could make it, so they were alone in their bubble eating a dancing just the two of them. Maggie liked it that way. Group reunions at weddings were always fun, but she wanted to positively devour Alex in this dress, so, no.

Alone together was better.

But Alex was not helping.

Her club girl days left her with a downright sinful rhythm in her hips, and for someone who was flirting with the wrong genre for 25+ years, she was truly a flirt in a class of her own.

On this dance floor – brightly lit, watched by cake-eating aunts and uncles – she was swaying into Maggie, pressing her hips and chest into Maggie’s body. Playing with Maggie’s hair at the nape of her neck. Pressing hot, wet, real kisses to Maggie’s lips.

She spun out, sometimes, for Maggie to spin her back in, and flitted off a few times for a drink refill or to snag a cupcake, but she returned each time to Maggie’s gravity. Pressing and pushing, sliding herself up and down Maggie, grasping to her vest, slipping a sly hand into Maggie’s back pockets.

She was wearing red lipstick and plenty of eyeliner and her hair was just the way Maggie liked it best, and Maggie was a fucking goner for her.

It was a wedding of white people, so they played the cupid shuffle. It’s the most boring dance in the world, but Alex started obediently performing the steps, so Maggie did too. But after one full rotation, Maggie, bored and hot for her wife, slipped behind Alex. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist, letting Alex’s hips snuggle tightly into her own.

Fucking _hot_.

Her wife is _fucking_ _hot_.

She mindlessly glid through the steps, hands demanding and tight on Alex’s hips, letting Alex’s ass curl up into her. She heard Alex hum, deep in her chest. She looked down the front of Alex’s body, able to see a creamy expanse of Alex’s chest, making her mouth water. She was torn: she wanted Alex to stay in the dress, but also desperately wanted to be inside of her, sucking on her tits and knuckle deep in her cunt at the same time.

Alex, bored with the dance, snuck them off into a dark corner for a very hot, very heavy, very desperate make out session. Alex’s mouth was open and insistent, her tongue sliding against Maggie’s with an open invitation. Or possibly a demand.

Maggie intended to accept. As soon as fucking possible.

But they were in Midvale, and Eliza was home. Kara joined them for the weekend, and her superhearing usually put a damper on any funny business. And this fucking hipster warehouse wedding venue was full of boomers on their third round of cake, and the dance party wasn’t concentrated enough for any hands to end up in any exciting places without the wedding photographers getting a real show.

But Maggie was fucking turned up, and had been for hours. Since seeing Alex in that fucking dress, with the sweetheart neckline and the way it accentuated every curve and handhold in her hips.

It was Alex who pulled them back onto the dance floor, giggling into Maggie’s ear at Ja Rule and this weird remix of several Snoop Dog songs layered over each other.

Maggie thought maybe she’d just either spontaneously combust or furtively rub one out after Alex fell asleep.

But then Alex, perfectly tipsy but not drunk – just the way she liked to be – leaned in close, her eyes flirty and dangerous and incendiary. “Wanna get out of here?”

Maggie groaned. Her hands were supposed to be on Alex’s hips but her thumbs were slipping dangerously close to her front, wanting desperately to dip down. “It’s kind of a full house back there.”

But Alex just grinned, her hands – so quick and skillful and tactically dangerous – just skimming Maggie’s nipple on her way to clasp Maggie’s neck again. “But we have a perfectly good car out there with a very spacious backseat.”

Maggie blinked quickly. It’d been years since they’d had sex in a car. Not since back when they were first dating, and everything was so fresh and hot that they couldn’t wait to get home. Now that they’d been together for five years _(“married for two,”_ Alex always liked to beam, kissing Maggie’s cheek when she said it) they preferred to make it back to their enormous bed. They were in their thirties. Backs and necks were not what they used to be.

But Alex was hotter than fuck in this dress, and her ass had been screaming at Maggie for hours, and Maggie wanted to just bury herself inside Alex until morning, and the house was literally a no-fuck-zone. So she nodded as quickly as she could.

“Yeah?” Alex checked, tilting her head just like the first time.

Maggie kissed her, hard. Hot. Trying to show Alex just how much she’s _yeah_.

Alex giggled into her mouth. “That a yes?”

Maggie sucked on her tongue, reaching down to quickly grab a fistful of Alex’s ass, praying the seven photographers were off catching something else cute happening near the cake.

Maggie went to grab their coats while Alex said goodbye to the bride and then they were out in the crisp night air. They got into the car quickly, Maggie driving and Alex directing. She never liked to use GPS in Midvale, so Maggie was used to going wherever Alex told her.

She’d go anywhere Alex told her.

Alex seemed to understand she couldn’t tease while Maggie was driving, or Kara would have to come pull them both out of a fiery car wreck, and that would definitely put a damper on the mood. So Alex kept her hands to herself, speaking only to give directions. But the husky tone of her voice, and the way the streetlights seemed to highlight her chest and the column of her throat were doing it quite enough.

Maggie wondered if she’d last long enough for Alex to actually touch her, or if she was going to come just from the thoughts alone.

Finally – finally – Alex directed them to a beach parking lot, to a spot strategically hidden behind some low hanging tree branches. Maggie parked, then leaned back, one eyebrow up. “Nice spot, Danvers. This your high school hook up spot?”

Alex scoffed, opening her door and climbing gracefully out. “Yeah, right. Kara and I used to come here so she could practice using her xray vision.”

Maggie joined her in the backseat, wanting so much that she was nearly spitting sparks out of her skin.

They’d been together for five and married for two, but, still. Jesus Christ. Her wife was hot as fuck. Some nights, like tonight, Maggie couldn’t believe that she got to be the one to unwrap and unravel this fucking gorgeous creature.

Of course, tonight, there would be significantly less unwrapping. Maggie realized with a jolt she might just get her wish to fuck Alex in the dress.

She must have been leering, because by the time her eyes made it back up to Alex’s face, Alex was nearly laughing at her. “See something you like, Detective?”

Maggie couldn’t quite form a response, but she figured her predatory growl got the point across enough. Alex reached out for her, baring her neck for Maggie’s teeth and pushing her chest forward for Maggie’s grasping fingers.

They made out for a while, slightly awkwardly side by side, mouths finally getting so wet that Maggie could barely find any friction.

“Fuck, Alex,” she gasped, trying to pull Alex into her lap. “Fuck. God.”

Alex got the picture, tipping up onto her knees before swinging one leg over, and coming to rest down in Maggie’s lap.

She reached a hand up, balancing herself against the roof and making sure her head wouldn’t hit it. “Thank god we sprung for the roomier backseat,” she breathed, and Maggie couldn’t help but agree.

Although, of course, Alex’s dress was riding far up her thighs, now, and Maggie was a little distracted. Alex’s thighs were exposed, and Maggie’s hands were on them before she even thought about it, and Alex’s tits were right at her eye level.

Maggie leaned forward, one arm coming around Alex’s ass to hold her in place, and licked a long swipe up Alex’s chest from as far down in her cleavage as she could up to Alex’s ear. She dipped back down, mouthing at the swells of Alex’s breasts.

Alex groaned, and Maggie slipped both hands behind her, easily finding her zipper and sliding it down. The zipper was nearly silent in the car, loud with Alex’s pants and Maggie’s mumbling groans.

Maggie made quick work of Alex’s bra, unfastening it and slipping it all the way off before threading Alex’s arms back into her dress and pulling it almost all the way up.

Public parking lot sex was one thing; full public nudity was quite another.

Plus. Fucking Alex _in the dress_. God, Maggie was going to download and save every second of this in her mind for any and all self-care sessions in the future.

Alex was starting to show that she wanted it just as badly as Maggie. She was starting to grind down on Maggie’s thighs, her movements becoming less flirtatious and more purposeful. Her sounds less giddy and more desperate.

Maggie slipped her hand up Alex’s inner thighs, leaving pinches and making sure to grab handfuls on her way up. But when she got where she was going, her jaw dropped.

“Surprise,” Alex said, a shit eating grin on her face.

Maggie blinked four times, quickly. Her wife, her fucking wife, the hottest woman she’s ever seen, basically dry humped her on the dance floor at her childhood friend's wedding in front of all those people eating cake, and she hadn’t been wearing underwear the whole time?

Maggie wanted to ask several clarifying questions, but then Alex ground down and forward, and Maggie’s fingers slipped into her warmth, and all questions fell away.

Alex was beyond wet. Alex was positively slick. Maggie stopped wondering if she herself would last long enough. She knew her wife. When Alex was this ready, she always came fast and hard.

Maggie left her right hand where it was, slowing exploring Alex’s slick with two scissoring fingers, making Alex squirm down, keening gasps starting to fall out of her mouth. Maggie’s left hand slid up Alex’s body, finally reaching her chest and pulling the dress down just enough to free a breast.

She bent forward and took Alex’s nipple into her mouth, and Alex reached quickly out, bracing herself against the roof again with one hand and wrapping the other around Maggie’s head. “Fuck,” she said, her eyes falling closed.

Maggie remembered her fantasy from the dance floor and was careful to keep her eyes open as she slid her fingers deep inside of Alex, giving a quick bite to the nipple in her mouth at the same time. Alex, on top of her, writhing, wearing the fucking dress, her ass grinding against Maggie’s thighs, her tit in Maggie’s mouth, Maggie two knuckles deep inside of her. This was literally everything Maggie had ever wanted.

Maggie felt her own need starting to swell inside of her at the sight. She desperately tried to take a mental picture of Alex – one that would save not just the visuals but also the taste of her skin and the sounds of her ragged breath and the feel of her velvety slick cunt grasping at Maggie’s fingers.

Alex was trying to thrust herself down onto Maggie but was limited by the roof. She was trying to lean backwards to have more room to move, but Maggie wouldn’t relinquish her tit. “Fuck,” Alex panted, this time out of frustration. “Mags, I…fuck.”

Maggie took pity, releasing her mouth at the same moment that her thumb found Alex’s slippery clit. Alex jerked forward, a sinful sound coming from her mouth as her cunt fluttered around Maggie’s fingers.

Alex’s fingers scrabbled forward, making surprisingly quick work of Maggie’s belt, button, and zipper. But there wasn’t room for her to slip a hand inside, and she had to content herself with a predatory growl that made Maggie impossibly wetter. “Want you,” she panted. “Need you.”

Maggie nodded, and together they slipped Alex over to one side just enough for Maggie to free one of her own legs. Now Alex was straddling just Maggie’s right thigh, letting her spread the left out enough for Alex to be able to reach inside. Luckily Maggie was wearing actual boxer briefs with a hole, and Alex had a truly evil grin as she slipped her fingers around the fabric and inside. “Have I mentioned,” she panted, moaning quickly as Maggie’s fingers found Alex’s slick clit again, “how much I love these briefs.”

Maggie bit her neck before leaning back and giving them both room to work. “Have I mentioned,” she offered, seizing her last moment of coherent speech before Alex destroyed her, “how much I fucking love that dress?”

“Oh,” Alex said, positively coquettish. Then, without warning, she grasped perfectly at Maggie’s clit. “This old thing?”

Maggie was losing her mind. Absolutely gone. Not only was she deep inside her wife, who was quickly becoming more swollen and wet than Maggie’d ever felt her, with a nipple turning a delicious bright pink under Maggie’s pinching fingers, but Alex was doing that figure-8 thing on her clit that made her see stars, and the moonlight was glinting off Alex’s skin and she was skill wearing the fucking dress.

“Come on, love,” Alex gasped, grinding down hard onto Maggie’s thigh, slipping her fingers perfectly against Maggie’s clit. “Fuck me like you’ve been wanting to.”

And Maggie did. Alex’s panting breaths were joined by the heavenly wet sounds of her cunt grasping at Maggie’s fingers as she thrust in and out, Alex lifting herself up just enough to let Maggie work without slamming her head against the roof.

Alex licked into Maggie’s mouth, her tongue sliding against Maggie’s to match her fingers on Maggie’s clit. Maggie let go of her nipple to take a fistful of her ass, groaning at the feel of it in her hand.

Alex palmed her breast underneath her vest, somehow managing to find and deliver a firm clamping pinch to her nipple even through the layers of shirt and bra.

Maggie swirled her thumb around Alex’s clit on every shallow thrust, and Alex was close. She was just chanting “fuck” up against Maggie’s lips now, and her fingers were twitching more than swirling around Maggie’s clit.

But Maggie was turned up enough and hot enough for her wife that it was still working.

She pulled back enough to watch as her wife – eyes lidded, cheeks flushed, chest splotched with pink, cunt grasping and sucking, clit hard and slick, one delicious tit still out, nipple begging to be sucked – finally came around her fingers.

She gasped something, maybe Maggie’s name, maybe a prayer, and her cunt clenched down on Maggie’s fingers, stilling them for a just a moment. Maggie took that moment to lean forward and bite down on her nipple and Alex squeaked, her cunt convulsing again as her orgasm got even longer. She was still twitching and grinding, and that sent enough motion into Maggie’s clit that she came just a few seconds later, coating Alex’s fingers with her own slick.

Alex came down slowly, still twitching and gasping. “Fuck,” she mumbled, dropping her head into Maggie’s neck. “Fuck. That was…fuck.”

Maggie pressed soft kisses to her neck, careful not to overwhelm her while she was still coming down. After a while Alex regained some body control, able to pick up her head and slowly pull her hips back enough for Maggie to pull out.

She found her feet, or her knees, or something, and gently toppled over to the side, dropping down to sit next to Maggie. “Holy shit,” she said, pushing her hair back in a way that she didn’t mean to be sexy but entirely was. “You broke me, woman.”

Maggie snorted. Alex’s tit was still out, and her dress was rucked up around her hips and she could see Alex’s glistening lips peeking out from underneath. The dress might have been a bit worse for the wear, but, fuck. That was even hotter than Maggie had ever dreamed.

The one orgasm barely took the top off Maggie’s need, but the car was cramped and Alex had only narrowly avoided a concussion, and they were pushing their luck being here this long as it was.

She leaned over to kiss her wife, soft but serious. “I love you, gorgeous,” she whispered into her mouth. “Thank you for fulfilling a fantasy I didn’t even know I had.”

Alex grinned at her, sated and beautiful and loving and perfect. She hummed a little, something content and full. “Mmm, my pleasure, love.”

Maggie kissed her again because she could and she had to. “And tomorrow night, back at home, I’m gonna go down on you until you forget your own name.”

Alex gulped a little, and Maggie didn’t miss how her thighs clenched a bit together. “Deal.”

“So,” Alex said casually as they were pulling into her mom’s driveway about fifteen minutes later. “That’s the most I’ve ever liked the cupid shuffle.”


End file.
